


You Sparkle Like My 6 Gun

by jet6black6feeling6



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Bottom Gerard Way, Crossdressing Kink, Daddy Kink, M/M, Mafia Frank Iero, Top Frank Iero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jet6black6feeling6/pseuds/jet6black6feeling6
Summary: Gerard does drag at a prohibition era night club that mafia boss Frank owns. Duh.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 43
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got a wonderful prompt from @holywhorter that inspired this. She made some lovely art to accompany it. I'll be posting a spicy part 2 soon.
> 
> Sorry I haven't been writing much. Life is busy and my carpal tunnel is horrible. I'll be trying harder to finish stuff for you all.

https://imgur.com/a/MTouBqf  
[art by the lovely @holywhorter]

Agostelli’s was not the kind of place you’d take a date.

In fact, it was more suited for those without a partner.

The only way to get in was through a revolving bookcase in the basement of a hostel in New Brunswick.

Gerard found the place in his desperate search for some form of alcohol in the dry county, but ended up staying when he realized he had found something he never knew existed. It was an opportunity to be the version of himself he had tried for years to hide.

He had been experimenting in own home, but never once considered it to be something he would ever share with others. Let alone, a viable career.

But here he was, on a normal Saturday night for himself, in full costume backstage.

A long, silken pink gown that clung to his hips reached all the way to the floor. A slit up the side showed his freshly shaved thigh jutting from the top. The front of the dress plunged nearly to his navel. While walking in heels had initially been a struggle, he now glided across the hardwood floor in 4 inch stilettos with a platform.

His shoulder-length black hair had been tied up and flattened back, concealed under a platinum blonde wig in a neat chignon, with only a few loose pieces in the front to frame his alabaster face. His lips had been neatly over-lined to give them a fuller appearance.

Gerard affixed his clip-on earrings in the mirror, taking one last look at himself before going out. He knew the implications of what he was doing. 

He looked like a ghost of himself. Present, but barely.

This place was a secret after all, and he was meant to be kept a secret.

He never should have been afforded this opportunity in the first place, so he never took it for granted. Even though his false persona was the real star, and Gerard was only the pilot, he was alright with that. 

The final state call rung out to the sound of piano music and the hushed echoes of jazz drums.

Gerard whisked toward the curtain, hurrying to take the live mic from the announcer and beginning his show.

On weekends, he sang a double set. Twice the songs, and twice the performance. He swung about on stage, leaning down close to men in the audience and pulling them in with his charm.

Some knew his secret. Others only thought he was a beautiful woman who sang cabaret. It didn’t matter either way, because the golden plate that held his tips was overflowing with cash. And the occasional love letter.

He recognized the regulars. Many were lonely men who nervously swapped their wedding bands to another finger, only there to watch from afar. Some were crass, and got touchy if he moved to closely. Occasionally the bar staff would watch his performances. He loved when the other girls stood stageside to watch. 

But something about tonight was special. About three quarters of the way through his performance, he noticed someone else standing in the wings of the stage.

He couldn’t get a full look without turning conspicuously to the side, but it appeared to be the bar owner.

His heart rate sped up at the thought, but he did his best to keep level and pretend it was like any other night. He could have been mistaken, after all. In fact, it was unlikely that it was him.

He continued his sultry groove, singing a slow number and running his hands over his body. Some hoots and whistles came from the crowd. The spotlight blinded him from his inhibition.

As his 20 minute performance drew to a close and the curtains enveloped him and the band, he could finally breathe. He knelt, carefully collecting the tip dish and turning toward stage right. 

Gerard thought he might be confronted, assuming he had made a mistake that night, or that he was being evaluated.

But his heart slowed slightly as he looked around the dressing room.

The owner was not there. It was possible that he had never been watching at all. 

Gerard often saw the man from afar, but had little to do with him.

They had never spoken. He had only ever made brief eye contact with him a handful of times backstage when he was in for the night, observing.

From what he had heard from dressing room banter, he had inherited the club from his father before the prohibition and converted it into its current state. He had also heard that the only way this underground activity was running without a bust from the law was the owner’s affiliation with the mob.

It was all backstage gossip though. He could never be sure how much of it was true.

The night went on, and Gerard went back to watch a few other ladies perform. The crowd had quieted down since his performance. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, many of the men were there for him. His floorwalk before the end of night was what they were holding out for, and the other girls knew it.

Soon enough it was that time, and Gerard couldn’t wait to get it over with and get all the makeup off.

He came out from the back, along with the other ladies, to walk around the tables and greet fans. It was a nightly tradition, and many frequents had acquainted themselves with the ladies this way. The best performers received hefty tips in person from wealthy men in the crowd, in exchange for brief conversation and the ability to flirt with them.

As Gerard made his rounds, he was beckoned to many tables. Every rough grip on his lower back, and cash being slid into his garter made him shiver, but it was worth it. Only a few of them tried kissing him on the cheek, but he had been quick to avoid it.

Table after table, Gerard smiled to every guest and tried his best to handle himself.

“You did excellent. What a voice, huh? And the body to go with it.”

“I wish I could see more of you. Know what I mean?”

“How much does $100 get me?”

Gerard only graciously accepted each compliment with a saccharine fake smile, quickly moving to the next table at any chance he got to escape.

But when he saw who was beckoning him over this time, it wasn’t just him who noticed.

Gerard’s throat went dry, seeing a younger man in a suit, alone at a table near the bar.

Wide eyes of the other girls met him as they realized, too, who it was. And that he was calling Gerard over.

It was the bar owner himself. 

Frank Iero.

Gerard looked around, making sure he wasn’t gesturing toward anyone else. But he quickly realized the other girls had parted away, leaving only him in the immediate area.

He glanced one more time at the man, making eye contact as if to ask, me?

When he received one slow nod as the man sipped his drink, his legs carried him over to the table without a second thought.

The man set aside his drink, looking up at him.

He made his way over to the table, keeping his gaze down. It felt as if he were moving underwater as his heels clacked on the wood floor.

And when he arrived where the man was seated, he was at a loss for what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to lead.

“What’s your name, doll?”

His Jersey accent was immediately noticeable. The smoke from his cigar rolled from his lungs as he spoke, stifling his tone slightly.

“You know my name, Sir.”

Gerard didn’t realize how it might have sounded until it had already left his mouth. He looked up finally, making eye contact.

“You’re that important, huh?”

“Well,” Gerard flubbed, “It’s just that… I draw a crowd. My name is on the posters. You must know.”

He couldn’t believe he had found his nerve to speak up like that to the owner, but he didn’t regret it.

The owner sat back in his seat, taking another long drag of his cigar, before smiling. His head lulled to the side as he gave Gerard a once-over.

“I might. Why don’t you remind me,” He gestured toward him.

He was toying with him. Gerard normally didn’t like this behavior, but he couldn’t figure out why the owner was doing this. So he bit.

“Gee. And yours?”

The man must’ve found his reciprocating question funny, because he laughed. A short exhaling sound, before crushing the cigar in an ashtray.

“You know my name, doll.”

“I do.”

“Then why don’t you come here? I don’t bite.”

And Gerard found himself taking another step forward, straight to the extended hand of his.

His hands were heavily tattooed, much like the rest of him. Or at least what he could see. Gerard had always found it intriguing.

He was now standing only a foot or so in front of the man, and he had placed a hand gently on the small of his back for a moment from his seated position, encouraging him to enter his personal space. 

His golden cufflinks and rings glinted in the dim lighting of a candle on the table, before he brought his hand back to rest on the table.

“Is…. there something you wanted to ask me?”

Gerard found it all so strange. He didn’t want to circumvent any longer.

Frank smiled again softly, seeming warmer this time.

“I just wanted to talk. Is that ok?” He asked, tipping his head back, “I thought your show was lovely.”

So he had been watching, just as he had suspected.

“Oh. Thank you, Sir,” Gerard launched into his usual floor talk, “Your viewership is always appreciated and I hope to see you again at the next one.”

“You don’t have to do all that with me, doll,” Frank immediately caught his insincerity, making him blush slightly, “I’m just asking what my girls need.”

And… oh. So maybe Frank was going to talk to all the girls. That made much more sense than any serious interest he took in his performance.

“I- I still appreciate it. I just need a place to earn my keep, as the expression says,” Gerard replied simply. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Frank was in charge of this conversation, and they would get to whatever point he was trying to make eventually.

Frank took a sip of the tumbler of whiskey next to him, drinking slowly and eyeing him as he spoke.

When he withdrew the glass from his mouth, he didn’t set it down. He only held it in his grip.

“Want something to drink, love?” Frank asked softly.

The man was entirely unreadable to Gerard. Maybe it should’ve felt like a trick question but he found himself saying-

“Alright.”

Gerard had expected him to call someone over from the bar, mere feet behind them. Or produce another drink from his area somehow.

But instead, he held out his own glass.

Not far. Only a few inches away from his chest, where he had been holding it for himself.

“Oh…” Gerard said under his breath, thoroughly confused.

The ice in the glass clinked as he held it out, beckoning Gerard closer.

Frank never moved. He only blinked slowly, watching to see what the pretty boy would do next.

Gerard took a hesitant step closer. Then another, before reaching out, then quickly returning his hand to his side. 

Frank placed a soft hand on his hip, guiding him down toward his drink. He hardly extended his arm. He only encouraged Gerard closer, until he was hovering over the whiskey, inches from Frank’s face.

“C’mere.”

Gerard had somehow been encouraged into Frank’s lap.

And immediately from every direction, he felt the staring eyes of so many onlookers.

Frank slinked an arm around his waist, pulling him closer as he sat hesitantly on his thigh. He raised the glass of whiskey to his lips slowly, letting Gerard taste as he dispensed the liquid, feeding him.

He took a small sip, looking at Frank as he did so. Frank watched, seeming pleased. And when when he pulled it away, he examined the lipstick stain on the rim.

He stroked his hip firmly with his thumb, placing the whiskey on the table.

“So you want a place to earn your keep, huh?”

For a moment, Gerard had forgotten he had even said that. He loved this place, and he didn’t want to lose it. That was all he meant.

The glances of other performers and men in the crowd were tangible in that moment. He didn’t know much about the man, but he guessed this wasn’t commonplace.

“Uh, I suppose I did say that,” Gerard said softly.

He had begun fidgeting a little, feeling uncomfortable. Not to say he was unhappy, he just didn’t know the intention.

The man must’ve sensed his nerves.

He leaned forward, whispering in his ear, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up at the feeling of his hot breath.

“Relax, doll,” Frank said, “I’ve got a simple task for you.”

And for a moment, Gerard almost did relax. He almost did block out the judgmental stares and let himself enjoy this moment.

“I want you to show me how useful you can be.”

Gerard only blinked, waiting.

“How about you polish my gun, sweetheart?”

Gerard was shocked for a moment, taking it entirely in the worst way.

“Sir, I don’t...-“

Until Frank pulled something that glittered in the candle light from his waistband, twisting it inconspicuously on his finger.

Gerard immediately flinched, jumping up to stand. Before he could, Frank had a firm hold on his thigh that rendered him immobile.

“Shh, hey,” Frank said softly, placing a hand on Gerard’s cheek. He stroked his face comfortingly, following his eyes so Gerard couldn’t focus on the small pistol he was holding in his opposite grip.

Gerard blanched, lips parted in confusion.

Frank smiled warmly, like he wasn’t holding a weapon, extending it toward Gerard.

“Take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I promise you're safe.”

Frank reached out, taking his hand delicately and placing it in his grip. He then clicked the chamber open, showing there were no bullets inside.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Frank let go, allowing Gerard to carefully turn it over in his grasp, still seated on the man’s thigh, “Now I want you to polish it real good for me, sweetheart. And we’ll have a talk, just like I promised.”

Frank removed a handkerchief from the front pocket of his jacket, handing it over to Gerard.

“Why?”

“Why what, baby?”

Frank looked so utterly placid, sure of himself. Gerard wondered for a moment if he had missed something. Maybe he was the one who hadn’t caught on.

As Gerard held the heavy gun and the handkerchief in his slight hands, he only stared blankly.

Frank laughed, a quick exhaling sound, before sliding a provocative hand up the slit of Gerard’s gown.

“It’ll make me happy,” He said softly, leaning forward so their hips were brushing, “And of course I’ll compensate you for it.”

Gerard let his eyes fall shut briefly, enjoying his touch. 

“Okay.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He looked up into Frank’s dark hazel eyes, before turning the gun in his lap, lifting the cloth. He began to rub his thumb into the metal with it, shining.

Frank hiked him up a little further in his lap, so he was straddling his thigh and mere inches from his face.

The man watched carefully with half-lidded eyes, stroking at Gerard’s sensitive inner thigh through the slit in his gown.

Gerard knew the other men were watching, and even the women. But in the moment, it felt good. Right, even.

“So tell me,” Frank said softly, eyes tracking every movement of Gerard’s delicate hands over the metal, “How do you do it?”

“Do what, sir?”

“Look the way you do.”

It was at that exact moment that Gerard wondered if Frank knew who he was. It was possible he had heard of his identity, but there was still a chance he was in the dark.

“I… suppose it’s a bit more in my performance than in my dress, correct?” Gerard hedged, hoping he was reading him right.

“I would certainly say so.”

Frank stroked his unshaven stubble, seeming lost in his answer for a moment.

Gerard continued to shine slowly, rubbing away the layer of age on the gun’s exterior.

“There are many women here who have a similar style,” Frank said slowly, fixated on Gerard’s hands, “But you don’t look quite like anyone I’ve ever seen.”

Gerard could feel his hands sliding up his thigh again, making him tremble lightly at the touch.

The feeling of so many eyes on him had disappeared, like they were only visible in the small range of light provided by the single candle on the table.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Gerard took a risk, looking up at him.

Frank smiled, reaching down and placing a hand on top of Gerard’s.

He gently moved it, taking the gun from his grasp and raising it slowly so he could see.

It glinted as he turned it over in his grasp, and his tattooed fingers ran over the now smooth surface.

“Beautiful,” Frank whispered, taking one last look at the object before tucking it back into his waistband.

Gerard blushed.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“Well, I did say I’d compensate you for it, now didn’t I?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I hope it was worth the wait. I wanted to write something extra good for those of you who enjoy my work. Love you all so much

“Do you have a bag? Or anything you keep here?”  
  
Frank gazed at Gerard, picking at a loose thread on his dress.  
  
“I usually change, yes.”  
  
“Why don’t you go get what you need. My driver will bring you back to my home,” Frank said, as if it were understood already that he was coming home with him, “I have a few things to take care of around here first.”  
  
The bar was already clearing out, and the severe gazes of the other girls met Gerard as they passed by on their way out.  
  
He’d have a lot of explaining to do at some point. But that was the least of his worries at the moment.  
  
“So you want me to… come over, then?”  
  
Frank smirked like Gerard had said something exceptionally funny.  
  
“Don’t sound so excited.”  
  
“No,” Gerard hurried to interject, “I want to. I’m just…” He stared, “I’ll go get my things.”  
  
Gerard stood, gaping at the seated man before turning on his heel toward the dressing room.  
  
If he had told himself this morning that he would be going home with the club owner, he would’ve thought it was a lie. Well, he wasn’t technically going him with him. Of course the man had more important things to tend to before just walking out.  
  
He wondered how often he approached other women, considering how forward he was. But he couldn’t help but accept the man’s offer.  
  
Gerard hurried to gather his belongings once behind the curtain, slipping into his usual post-show black silk kimono and slippers.  
  
And as he reached up to remove his blonde wig, a muscle memory action, he hesitated for a moment.  
  
He looked at himself from across the room in the mirror of his vanity.  
  
A spike of fear and trepidation rushed to him as he considered the repercussions of tonight.  
  
And yet, he pulled off his wig, combing out his black locks before reaching for a makeup wipe.  
  
And as he slipped out the back door, it only took moments before he was greeted by a sports car and the driver beckoning to him.

____  
  
Anxiety should have been effecting him as they raced toward their destination, but he had instead chosen to shelve his worries.  
  
The man lived closer than he would’ve expected, considering the risk of the bar. He only had a moment to fidget in the back seat, watching the city buildings go by, before pulling up to a high rise downtown.  
  
The driver parked, ushering him to the entrance and quickly into an elevator. They flew up to the tenth floor, and the driver wasted no time to unlock the only door on the floor, gesturing him inside.  
  
“Mr. Iero instructed me to leave you here,” The driver disclosed, “And that you should feel free to make yourself comfortable.”  
  
Gerard nodded and thanked him as he made his way out abruptly, leaving him entirely alone in a stranger’s home.  
  
It was strange behavior that he had even taken this risk. He had never once left with a man from the club, and never dreamed of it until this moment.  
  
He turned around, lost in thought. And the sight he was met with blew him away.  
  
The man lived in the penthouse.  
  
A grand piano was shocking enough to see in the foyer.  
  
Gerard moved slowly, footsteps echoing in the marble foyer. The steps he took were careful.  
  
Paranoia that someone was watching in the foreign home was inescapable, although logically he knew no one was. Even with his best attempt, his slippers clacked on the tile, echoing under the high ceilings.  
  
Past the entryway was the grand room.

Ornate oil paintings, a marble fireplace, plush leather couches and vaulted ceilings.  
  
A far cry from his own cramped apartment on the east side of town.  
  
He didn’t want to snoop, but the man did instruct for him to feel comfortable here.  
  
So he looked into a few rooms, cracking parted doors open and studying the possessions in plain sight.  
  
Fine china, velvet curtains, bottles of wine. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest, but seeing it firsthand was still strange.  
  
He peeked into an open door, met with wall-to-ceiling with books. It appeared to be a study, filled with paperwork and other important, costly looking items.  
  
He walked slowly over to the desk, flicking a lamp on and gazing over all the clutter on the desk.  
  
A single, silver framed photo seemed to be the only nostalgic item. Perhaps the only one in the entire home.  
  
It showed a young boy, smiling innocently, held by an older man, whose expression was empty. Behind them appeared to be a case of rifles, varying in size.  
  
Gerard shivered, putting it back down with care and exiting the study. He had about enough of digging around, and figured that he wouldn’t find anything unpleasant if he didn’t go searching.  
  
He entered the main room again, feeling another wave of what should’ve been anxiety rise up in his throat. But he pushed it down, knowing that he could only be honest from here on.  
  
Instead, he wandered toward the back wall. The curtains against them were nearly fifteen feet high, and Gerard of course had to find out what was behind them.  
  
He gripped the center, walking backward and parting them, following along the length of the curtain rod as he walked. And when he turned around, the view they concealed nearly took his breath away.  
  
A perfect outlook of the city. A glass wall with a panoramic view.  
  
The moon was on full display in the night sky. Buildings and cars twinkled in the dark, and the shapes of skyscrapers in the distance were like art.  
  
He couldn’t believe anyone lived like this. Especially someone who spent any time at the same place he worked at.  
  
Gerard stared out the window, taking it all in. The city looked so small below him.  
  
He then shifted his focus to his own reflection in the glass.  
  
His makeup was gone, apart from a pink stain from the lipstick that remained, and the faint smudge of where his mascara was, encircling his eyes.  
  
Only a moment passed before he heard the clicking sound of the front door opening down the hall.  
  
Gerard saw the door swing open in the reflection of the glass. He turned, looking over his shoulder, seeing the owner of the home standing in the entryway.  
  
Frank, still in his suit, holding his jacket in his arm, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled to the elbows.  
  
An irrepressible shiver racked his body, and he pulled his kimono tighter on himself.  
  
Neither of them said a word.  
  
The man dropped his jacket on an entryway table, shoes clacking on the tile slowly as he walked toward him.  
  
Gerard couldn’t bring himself to stare, so he turned back to the window, looking down at the city.  
  
He breathed in, closing his eyes for a moment.  
  
Before hearing the footsteps stop shortly behind him.  
  
Gerard sighed.  
  
“Hello...”  
  
He looked up, seeing his own reflection, and Frank’s over his shoulder.  
  
The man’s brows knit together in confusion, studying his face.  
  
“I’m probably… not what you expected,” He hated how powerless his voice came out, “I wasn’t honest with you.”  
  
A moment of silence transpired between them before his reply came.  
  
“I suppose you weren’t.”  
  
Gerard winced. He stared down at the moving cars below them, planning his inevitable exit.  
  
He was still pinned to the glass in front of Frank, and the man didn’t move.  
  
“If you want me to leave, I can call a ride.”  
  
He felt himself being turned around by the waist in his grasp, coming to face him. His back now pressed against the glass.  
  
Frank’s face was so close to his own, he could feel his breath on his neck.  
  
He raised his hand quickly, and Gerard nearly flinched.  
  
But the man’s inked fingers brushed softly against his cheek, before gripping lightly at his chin. He turned his face, left and right.  
  
His hands migrated down, brushing his collarbone, before moving to his waist.  
  
“My name is Gerard…”  
  
He wasn’t sure why he shared that. It just felt right. The man deserved an explanation at least.  
  
“Gerard,” Frank whispered, looking down at his body. He spoke it like a foreign language.  
  
He only waited, unable to read the expression on his face.  
  
When Frank suddenly reached forward, gripping the knot holding his silk kimono closed.  
  
Gerard was unable to form words. Why was he doing this? Did he not understand?

Yet his eyes asked permission and he found himself nodding yes.  
  
Frank pulled at the end, letting it fall open.  
  
His flat, alabaster chest was left glowing in the darkness. A pair of plain black women’s underwear was all he had on beneath it.  
  
No matter what he wore, this was who he truly was.  
  
Frank reached out, placing a hand in the middle of his chest, inhaling sharply.  
  
“Sei ancora così bella…”  
  
Frank leaned in, brushing his lips against his.  
  
“Sei ancora tu.”  
  
“Frank…”  
  
“Yes, angel boy?”  
  
A moment of silence transpired between the two of them, before Frank delicately turned him back to face the vast window, wrapping his arms around his exposed midsection.  
  
“…Do you want me?”  
  
Gerard hated how it sounded, but it was an honest question.  
  
The man behind him had pushed him gently against the glass, with his legs on either side of his waist. His fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his head back toward him.  
  
“That depends,” Frank breathed into his ear, “Will you be good for me?”  
  
Gerard shivered, leaning back into his touch. His legs parted slightly of their own accord, allowing Frank to press him firmer against the window. The chill of the night air was prickling his skin through his open garment.  
  
“Yes,” Gerard replied, eyes falling shut, “Anything you want.”  
  
Frank tugged his hair firmly, causing his breath to catch in his throat.  
  
“Anything? Be careful, Gee.”  
  
He reached down with his free hand, groping at his ass above the silk fabric that clung loosely to his body. He squeezed firmly.  
  
Gerard arched his back, sighing.  
  
“Mm,” Frank hummed reverently, continuing his movement, “Pliable, aren’t you?”  
  
Gerard nodded quickly, grinding his ass backward into his grip.  
  
“I promise I’ll only hurt you as much as you have a taste for,” Frank said darkly, kissing his cheek from behind.  
  
Gerard leaned into it, shivering at his words.

This was all moving so quickly, he found himself shocked. Seconds ago he had expected for the man to want him out. So when he he found himself being uncharacteristically honest, he surprised himself.  
  
“Does that promise apply to my emotions as well?” 

Gerard said it mostly to himself. Seeing as how fast this was happening, he didn’t have many expectations. His tone was at least partially in humor.  
  
However, Frank’s movements abruptly stopped as soon as the words left his mouth.  
  
His hands slid up, traveling around his waist, turning him around again to face him.  
  
Something in his eyes had changed.  
  
“I’m not one for casual encounter,” Frank said firmly.  
  
“That doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy the company of others.”  
  
Gerard wasn’t sure why spat back so quickly. This could’ve been an incidental meeting, and it still would’ve played out better than he had anticipated. And yet, he pressed on.  
  
Frank smiled at his rebuttal, stroking the hair away from his face tenderly.  
  
“Oh, but it does,” Frank said seriously, “I’m not one to share. And now you know my expectations.”

“You’re that confident in me then?”

“Should I not be?”

“I suppose I just need more convincing.”

He never came across this crass, but it was in his nature to lack trust. Especially for a stranger.

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

The man’s face went from lightly amused to indignant instantly.

“Lying, no,” Gerard chose his words carefully, “Exaggerating or stroking my ego, perhaps.”

Frank still had him pressed against the glass, his hands grasped loosely around the other’s waist. His fingers curled and uncurled into the delicate skin as he thought.  
  
He slipped his arms around Gerard’s waist firmly, pulling him against his chest, pressing his body against his suited one in his strong arms.  
  
He then nudged Gerard’s face upward with his own, catching him in a deep kiss.  
  
And Gerard let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.  
  
Frank’s tongue slipped past his lips, licking into him. He moaned softly, reciprocating.  
  
“I should’ve done this to begin with,” Frank breathed between kisses, “Forgive me.”  
  
Gerard didn’t answer. He only loosened in the man’s touch, giving him permission for whatever he desired.  
  
Frank kissed him slow and hard, deep and soft, before pulling away, nipping at his neck and collarbones. His hands explored all over his chest and waist.  
  
“Sir...”

And suddenly the man was dropping to his knees in front of him. An action Gerard had never seen in a partner. Especially one that came off as a dominant.  
  
Frank looked up from under his lashes, dark eyes gleaming.  
  
His rough hands slid around his hipbones, fingers prodding under the waistband of his panties.  
  
“May I?”  
  
Gerard nodded, finding it funny he should even ask. He was clearly hard and laboring as he breathed.  
  
Frank then slipped the panties down his thighs, letting his cock spring out onto his stomach. He pulled them all the way down to his ankles, encouraging Gerard to step out of them.  
  
He then looked at the fabric in his hands, and reached up, running a finger tip over his head.  
  
“You’re wet, angel…”  
  
Gerard whined, chest rising and falling visibly as he looked down at the man below him.  
  
“Mmhmm...”

The observation caused Gerard to be unable to form words for a moment.

“Is that because of me?”  
  
Frank seemed to enjoy a possessive aspect to their exchanges, and he was coming to realize he did too. Perhaps more than he had expected. 

He clearly just wanted to hear him say it.  
  
“Yes- You did that.”  
  
Frank grinned.  
  
“Want me to make it better, sweetheart?”  
  
Without waiting for more than a nod, Frank lewdly ran his tongue up the inside of his own hand, wrist to index finger tip.  
  
And then reached up between Gerard’s legs.  
  
The standing man gasped at the feeling. Frank began massaging back and forth firmly between his legs with his saliva-lubricated hand, dragging every part of it over his sensitive opening.  
  
“F-fuck!”  
  
Gerard felt his face burn with blush as he threw his head back, leaning against the window for support.  
  
Frank only watched, pressing firmly with every part of his wet fingers and palm. His gaze was intense and unwavering, as if he were observing a performance.  
  
He teased, reaching the back of his cock and pushing into the area of where his prostate was located on the inside of him.  
  
He withdrew again, spitting on his fingers, and reaching back up. This time, dragging the tip of his middle finger over his entrance, letting it catch on the rim.  
  
Gerard shivered with the cold glass on his back, the feeling becoming overwhelming. The apartment was dark, apart from the light of the city and the night sky flooding in. It illuminated Frank’s face beneath him.  
  
“Fuck, sir-“

He wrapped his kimono around himself, shivering and realizing how much of himself was on display against the window.

But Frank instantly took notice.

“Nuh-uh baby,” He tutted, “Don’t cover up. Show me your pretty body.”  
  
When he thought he might die from a moment more of teasing, Frank slipped his longest finger inside of him.  
  
“Ah! But... I don’t want anyone else to see...”  
  
Frank reached up with his free hand, gripping his hip tightly and pushing it flat against the window.  
  
“They won’t see.”

Gerard sighed, feeling slightly self conscious.

“I’m freezing...”

A last ditch effort to not be exposed.  
  
Frank smiled softly up at him with heavily lidded eyes as he continued.  
  
His finger stroked into him, withdrawing and reentering, before he added another. He stretched him, brushing them deliberately against his prostate with every removal.

“I’ll keep you warm, baby.”

Gerard’s tense fingers clutched at the fabric that was wound around his upper body, considering how Frank was still fully dressed.

And yet, he found himself dropping the garment to the floor without another protest.  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
Frank then began to stand, rising up to his feet without ever taking his fingers out of him.

Frank used his free hand to grope at his now exposed body, flipping him face forward onto the window and pressing his clothed hardness against his exposed ass.

His tongue dragged up the side of his neck, kissing along the most sensitive spot behind his ear.

“Please...”

“Please what, bella?”

“Quit teasing. I’m ready.”

Frank growled at this, grinding himself hard into the boy trapped under him.

“Want my cock?”

“Aching for it, daddy.”

He felt the man smile into his neck at the name.

He then felt his fingers slip out of him, running up the curve of his back, pressing him harder agonist the glass. A moment of just listening to his aroused breathing was enough to have Gerard soaking himself again.

The sound of his zipper couldn’t have come soon enough.

His rough fingers spread him open, exposing his tight cherry to the cold air.

The man spat, letting it fall directly onto it, before giving himself a few rough strokes.

“You’ll let me keep you, then?”

He ran the head of his cock over his entrance teasingly, whispering in his ear.

Gerard looked down at the city below him, and out to the buildings across the way. He wondered briefly how this might look to an outside viewer. An entirely naked boy, pressed under the body of a fully dressed man, against the glass of the penthouse.

For a moment, he wished someone could see this high up.

“Yes... please, just-“

Gerard cried out, a high breathy sound as the man behind him slid inside.

He never got to see the man’s cock, but from the feeling, he was deliciously long and thick. He felt unable to do much else besides cry and grind back into him.

Frank started a slow and hard pace, but quickly sped up as he heard the pleasure of the other man.

“Daddy... Daddy... Frankie, fuck. There!”

One hand remained pressing his hip into the window, while the other crept up, squeezing around his throat. His tattooed digits clutched firmly, making it harder to breathe.

His hips pushed firmly into him, forcing him forward. His own cock skimmed the cold surface in front of him delicately, sending a shiver down his spine.

Frank nuzzled into his neck as he fucked him, lips at his ear.

“Shh...” He breathed, “Wanted to put up all that fuss, and now you’re crying out for daddy. Beautiful boy.”

Gerard felt his legs shake in pleasure and overwhelming sensation.

His cock stretching and filling him, his fingers around his throat, and the feeling of being watched by strangers as he was taken against the transparent wall.

The man was right. Gerard was lost in his head, high pitched moans escaping from his constricted throat.

“And you thought I wouldn’t want you,” His laugh was buried in a gentle moan, “Thought you weren’t fit to be fucked by a man?”

“N-no, I... Fuck, I just-“

He changed his angle, hiking him up further and pushing in even deeper. Gerard’s stomach was flat against the glass, hovering on his toes as the man behind him held him up even higher.

“Thought you wouldn’t be tight for me?” He continued, “Huh, Bella?”

Gerard yelped, reaching back to dig his fingers into the man’s hair. To pull him endlessly closer. Frank relentlessly penetrated him, stroking deeper and deeper each time.

“Or was it that your pretty little flat chest wouldn’t look good with my marks?”

He dug his fingers into his side under his nipple, punctuating his remark with what surely would become a bruise.

“Fuck!” Gerard moaned, smushing his face on the wall in ecstasy.

“There?”

“Y-yeah. Fuck, yeah. Daddy...”

The head of his cock was digging into his prostate with every movement, causing him to see spots of white in his vision as he approached his completion.

“Cum, princess,” The man encouraged, gripping tighter on his throat, “Cum on my cock. Let me feel it.”

Gerard didn’t think he could finish this fast. Normally he would be embarrassed of how quick he had gotten this close, but Frank seemed thoroughly pleased.

His face in the reflection of the glass was dark and lustful. 

Gerard looked at himself briefly. His own face was fucked out, blushed with parted lips.

And after a few more perfectly angled thrusts, he was cumming untouched with Frank’s cock deep inside him.

“Ah, daddy! So good. So, so good.”

Frank had loosened his grip on his neck, leaning back and pounding into his ass while watching his own movements.

“Yeah? Shit... Ohhh...”

Frank growled, digging his fingers into his hips roughly as finished nearly at the same time as his partner.

His thrusts slowed, only teasing them both before he pulled out, running a finger up the seed dripping out of Gerard’s entrance.

Both took a moment to catch their breath, standing in the now deafening, echoey silence of the large living space.

Some of their sexual banter was a lot to digest, and Gerard briefly ran over it all in his head as Frank regained his composure.

Gerard slowly turned around, hesitating like he was searching for something to say.

He looked carefully at the other man’s face, stunned at how breathtakingly handsome he was.

“Yes, Bella?”

He must’ve been staring intensely. But words never came to him.

Instead, he fell forward into the man’s strong arms.

And Frank was there to catch him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You Sparkle Like my 6 inch gun artwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916302) by [Holywhorter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holywhorter/pseuds/Holywhorter)




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